


Reprieve

by Vorta_Scholar



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Bath Sex, Bathing/Washing, Creampie, F/M, Penis In Vagina Sex, Sex, Sneaking Around, Trektober 2020, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:21:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27211867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vorta_Scholar/pseuds/Vorta_Scholar
Summary: Quite literally just smut. Weyoun initiates an affair with with one of Dukat's "comfort women" behind his back.
Relationships: Weyoun (Star Trek)/Original Character
Kudos: 29





	Reprieve

**Author's Note:**

> For Trektober 2020, Day 26
> 
> Prompt: Shower/bathtub sex

“What’s he going to think of you coming in here right now?” Kendra Perim asked, not even bothering to turn her head when she heard the door whir open.

She just continued washing, scrubbing her arm gently with the rough cloth. It was a shame Dukat couldn’t get her anything nicer, all his connections and all the concessions he’d so willingly made for her besides this. He’d made promise after promise, and she hadn’t given up hope yet, but nevertheless her expectations were low, and she conceded to use what the station had to offer, as she always had.

“Oh, now,” said a voice. That _damned_ voice. The mock disappointment in that sweet, falsely-soothing tone was enough to make a knot form in her stomach. “He’s never said anything about my visiting you before.”

“You’ve never visited at a time like this,” she said, glancing up at him.

She started on the next arm.

“It’s rather unusual,” he said.

“What is?” she asked, one eyebrow raised and a sly sort of smile twitching at the corner of her lips.

“That you use water to wash,” he said. “Especially with such convenient advances as the sonic shower.”

“Not so unusual on Bajor,” she said.

“When did you last see _Bajor_?” he asked. “Five years? Ten?”

Her smile fell. “Seven,” she said quietly. “Anyway, it’s a luxury I’m afforded in this...current occupation.”

“Occupation?” he asked, taking on a sly expression of his own.

“ _Job_ ,” she said. “I meant occupation, as in _job_.”

“Hm,” he intoned.

He sat on the closed lid of the commode, his hands folded in his lap, so proper.

She sighed, and looked down at the water, how clear and clean it was, felt how warm it was. It was a waste of resources and energy. She knew that. Just ten years ago, she’d been in the resistance, fighting alongside her fellow Bajorans against their Cardassian oppressors. Now, here she was, a pretty little comfort woman sitting in a hot water bath, wearing sweet perfume, sharing her bed every night with a man she despised, all in the name of survival. No better than any collaborator.

 _At least she was alive_. That’s what she always told herself. But to be alive and to live as a Dominion whore were two entirely different things. To live as the whore of one of the most hated men in all of Bajoran history was the worst thing.

She looked at Weyoun, whose eyes were still on her, taking her in slowly, curiously.

“Would you like me to have a holo-image produced for you?” she asked.

“Whatever for?” he asked, taking on a tone of false innocence.

She scoffed.

“Anyhow, I much prefer the real thing,” he said.

“You’re disgusting,” she said, but she didn’t mean it.

Not really.

Truth be told, she quite preferred his company and his wandering eyes to those of the man whose fancy it was her job to tickle. At least Weyoun was generally polite. And his hands never followed his eyes. She couldn’t say he meant no harm because certainly he did, just not the kind of harm Dukat was known to offer. She doubted he was even capable, given what she knew about the Founders and how they had altered his people to be the perfect, single-minded servants whose only real pleasure in life was following Dominion orders.

She was drawn away from this thought, however, by his voice, quiet as it asked, “May I touch you?”

She stared at him, her mind suddenly blank, her previous line of thought completely cut off, and already discarded and half-reconsidered.

“Um.” She blinked. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, keeping her voice low.

Her eyes were wide and her heart jumped, its tempo quickening some. She sat up, pressing her chest to the side of the tub in a pointless attempt to hide herself.

“I just,” she said. “You know, if he...came back. I don’t think it would be a good idea.”

“Of course,” he said, bowing his head slightly before turning his attention to the label on a bottle on the counter beside him, completely unbothered, as though he’d asked something as simple as, _May I use your replicator?_

She continued washing, the thought sinking into her mind, the image of his hands on her body, the _feeling_. Her face burned even hotter, and she became abruptly aware of the throbbing between her legs, the way breathing suddenly became difficult. She _wanted_ this. She wanted _him_ to touch her.

She cleared her throat, and looked over at him.

“Why do you want to?” she asked as evenly as she could manage. “What would you get out of it?”

“I’m curious,” he said. “And I value our friendship.”

The last part sounded forced and rehearsed, like a line in some arsenal that was foreign to him but which likely would have sounded almost natural coming out of the mouth of one of her Cardassian masters. Nevertheless, his tone was genuine.

“Usually when people value their friendships, they don’t...do _that_ ,” she said.

“Maybe it’s more than that then,” he said quietly.

“Oh.”

He looked once again at the bottle on the counter, his embarrassment showing now in the faint purpling of his face and ears.

“Computer,” she said, and there was a soft chiming, “lock entryway doors.”

He looked at her, the realization slowly spreading across his face.

**_“Entryway doors locked.”_ **

“Initiate do-not-disturb.”

**_“Do-not-disturb initiated.”_ **

“Okay,” she said, speaking to him this time.

“Okay?” he repeated.

“Okay, you can touch me,” she said.

“You said…” he hesitated.

“ _I want you_ to touch me,” she said. “If you still want to.”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

Tentatively, he stood and came to kneel beside the tub, his eyes taking her in again slowly as she leaned back, bending one of her knees to open her legs for him. Her breathing had quickened. He noted the way her chest rose and fell with each breath, her skin wet and shimmering in the artificial light with each movement. He liked seeing her like this. He didn’t know if he could call it beautiful. He knew he had no way of perceiving beauty. Or at least he shouldn’t have had. But it _felt good_ to look at her lying there, her body relaxed, half-submerged in the warm, scented water, her legs parted slightly, and her expression marked with vulnerability and a certain amount of trust.

Slowly, he reached out and caressed her cheek, and she closed her eyes, letting out a soft sigh. His hand moved lower, over her throat, down to her breasts, taking one in his hand, squeezing it gently as he had seen done in a few of the holoprograms left behind in Dr. Bashir’s closet. It apparently had the same effect on Bajorans as on humans because she let out a long, shuddering breath, her mouth falling open slightly and her head tilting further back. Her body was soft and supple. He wanted to experience more of it, to feel more of _her_. His hand moved lower, breaking the surface of the water to slide over her waist, her belly, her hip.

“ _Hmm_ ,” she intoned, spreading her legs a little wider at the feeling of his hand on her thigh.

It seemed so long since she had felt soft, warm, gentle hands on her. The last few months had awakened so many raw memories of the years before, and the times had begun to blur together despite the years between them. But just these hands, _his_ hands, felt like a reprieve. Enough to take her mind off that, to make her forget just for a moment.

She took his hand and guided it down, between her legs. Her eyes met his as she guided his fingers between her folds, showing him where and how to touch, sliding his fingers over her clit, then dipping one of them into her cunt before sliding it out and back in again and then out and back through her folds to circle his fingers over her clit, moving his hand for him until he got the hang of it.

Letting go of his hand a moment later, she clutched the side of the bathtub and let out a soft moan.

“Good?” he asked.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Faster. Please.”

He obliged, watching intently as her chest heaved, she held so tightly to the side of the tub that her knuckles turned white, and her other hand gently kneaded her breast.

A few moments later, her head fell back and her back arched as a high, whimper-like moan fell from her lips. Her legs closed on either side of his wrist, hindering his movements some, but he kept going, enthralled by her panting and the writhing of her body, wanting to keep that going for as long as he could.

She moaned again, louder this time, and she reached for him, pulling him down by the front of his tunic into a hungry but short-lived kiss. Her body shuddered under his touch and the grip of her thighs on his arm loosened.

“Stop,” she said softly after a few moments, letting go of him. “Too much. Stop.”

And he did.

“Fuck,” she sighed, her breathing slowing and her body relaxing into the water.

Her skin was covered in goosebumps. He turned his attention to them, sliding his hand up her thigh, her abdomen, her neck, all the way back up to her cheek where he’d started, relishing the feel of her skin under his hand and studying the reddish flush that had taken over her face and chest. She looked at him, her eyes only half open as she sat up and pulled him closer by the front of his tunic, pressing her lips to his unexpectedly.

He followed her lead, returning her urgent, hungry kiss with one of his own, and pausing to help her when she started to fumble with the clasps of his tunic.

“What if he comes back?” he asked when he finally got it off and moved on to unfastening his trousers.

“He’s not on the station,” she said.

“Right,” he murmured.

He stood and kicked his boots and trousers off before letting himself be pulled into the tub with no time to get used to the sudden temperature shift. The plunge was abrupt, but he didn’t seem to mind. He just kissed her harder as he settled between her legs, thankful for the slight traction at the bottom of the tub which kept his knees from slipping.

“He’s not due back until tomorrow,” she said stroking his hair with a dripping hand. “So. In the meantime.”

He smiled. “Hm. Of course,” he said, kissing her again.

Gripping the rim of the tub behind her with one hand, he pushed himself up some to line his cock up with her opening, and with a quick thrust entered her with little resistance. She gasped, grabbing onto his shoulders, and she cursed under her breath, surprised to find him somewhat larger than she had anticipated.

“Alright?” he asked, stroking her cheek, his eyes still locked on hers.

“Yes,” she whispered, and turned her head to kiss his palm.

His hand slid down, his fingertips brushing over her lips.

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

“You don’t have to say that,” she said.

She took his hand in hers and kissed the back of it gently.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t think it,” he said.

There was no lie in his voice, or in his eyes as he leaned in once more to press his lips tenderly to hers. Slowly, he started to move. She wanted it to be true, wanted him to be able to feel the same pleasure looking at her body that she felt looking at his, wanted to think maybe when he looked into her eyes there was more to it than an internal script that told him to do so or a personal curiosity about what they would do if he _touched here_ or if he _moved his hips like so_. She was willing to accept that he could at least feel the way his body reacted to hers, but she couldn’t so easily let herself believe he’d suddenly gained some perception of beauty.

But perhaps, in his own way, he had.

And in fact, he had. In his own way. He had decided: in every way he could perceive, she was beautiful. He had come to find pleasure in the way her eyes fell half shut and her mouth fell half open, and the look of desperation in her eyes as he drew his hips back, letting his cock slide out of her almost all the way, and the way those same eyes slammed shut and her head dug back and her body arched into his when he suddenly thrust forward a moment later, pushing back into her deeper than before. It was difficult to describe or comprehend just how good it felt for him to see her like this. His cock throbbed inside her, and he groaned softly.

“Weyoun,” she panted, her arms holding him closer until his body was flush with hers and she could feel his weight pressing against her. Her thighs squeezed his hips. “ _Ah_.”

“You know,” he said breathlessly, his forehead resting on hers as he struggled to maintain eye contact, “I believe I am the first Vorta to have the honor of making love to a Bajoran woman.”

“Oh, yeah?” she said with a strained sort of laugh.

“Mmhmm,” he hummed. “ _Oh, by the Founders_.” He moaned softly, and his hips stopped mid-thrust before picking up again a moment later, somewhat faster than before. “Probably the first Vorta in years to make love to...to anyone...at all.”

“I’m honored,” she said, smiling and kissing his lips sweetly.

“So am I,” he whispered between kisses. “ _Hng_.” His grip on the rim of the tub tightened, the muscles in his arm tensing some as he struggled to keep an even tempo until finally, he paused again. He swallowed hard, closing his eyes tightly. “I feel as if something is about to happen.”

“Let it,” she said. She rolled her hips once, earning a soft whimper from him. “Keep going.”

He pressed on, gradually picking up where he’d left off, his hips moving steadily. With each thrust came a soft grunt, deep in his throat, just barely audible. Her hips pressed upward into his and she held him tighter.

“Harder,” she purred, her body arching under his and her hand playing with his hair. “ _Please_.”

He obliged, and at the same time she wrapped one of her legs around his waist, allowing him to go deeper. As the speed and force of his hips increased, so did the movement of the water, threatening to splash over the edge of the tub.

“Perim,” he said through a series of soft, desperate, almost whiny moans. “Oh. _Yeeesss_.”

“ _Yes_ ,” she said, her fingers tangling into his hair, pulling gently, her hips trying to move with his but unable to in her current position pressed between him and the wall of the tub.

The tension in her lower abdomen was building again. She loved hearing him like this, so needy and so close to release, his face buried in the crook of her neck, placing tender kisses between only half-stifled moans. His hips faltered, and suddenly halted, his body tensing. With a long, hoarse groan, he came inside her, _hard_. Her fist tightened around a handful of his hair and she squirmed under his body as her walls clenched and unclenched around him, clenched and unclenched.

“Fuck,” she whimpered. “Oh.”

“Good?” he murmured.

“Yes,” she breathed. “You?”

“Oh, yes,” he said, and pulled out of her slowly. “ _Very_ good.”

His eyes met hers again, seeming to glow in the artificial overhead lights, brighter than they normally did. She smiled and stroked his cheek.

“So,” she said. “Did that satisfy your curiosity?”

“Some,” he said with a playful grin. “There are...a few more possibilities I’d like to explore. A few questions left unanswered.”

She smiled back. “Well, like I said, he’s gone until tomorrow afternoon. You’re welcome to stay and we can explore the possibilities and answer any more questions you might have.”

“I’d like that,” he said, and leaned down to press his lips to hers once more before pulling away, and carefully climbing out of the tub.

Without his body against hers, she became abruptly aware of how much the water had cooled, and she shivered.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

She stood, and he passed her a towel.

“Fine,” she said, wrapping it around herself.

As they dried off, he found himself drawn to her again. He couldn’t remember who kissed whom first, or how exactly they became so entwined, with him helping her up onto the counter and wrapping her legs around his hips, but he wasn’t complaining.

“The bed would probably be more comfortable,” she said.

“I can’t wait,” he said. “Unless you object to doing this here.”

“Not at all.”

He reached down between them to slide himself back into her entrance, but they were interrupted by a loud banging at the front entryway.

“I guess do-not-disturb doesn’t apply to Jem’Hadar fists,” he said.

She unwound herself from around him and he took a step back, and she watched for a moment as he fell so easily back into each article of previously discarded clothing. She wrapped herself in one of the robes hanging on the back of the door and followed him out into the main room, where the banging was even louder, and someone was shouting in Dominionese.

“One moment!” he called, and the noise stopped immediately. “I will be back later,” he said softly, and took her hand, bending some to kiss the back of it.

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll be here.”

He nodded.

“Computer, unlock doors,” she said, and they whirred open, giving his guards a full view of the situation.

“That was longer than ten minutes,” one of them said.

“Did I say ten minutes?” he asked, but received no answer, as none of his guards was apparently willing to contradict him.

They departed, and she shook her head as the door whirred shut and she went to stand by the window which looked out toward Cardassia Prime.

By the Prophets, and maybe the Founders, too, just for good measure, she hoped Dukat was well occupied in whatever he was up to.


End file.
